In the last year we have visited the Mediterranian Sea for the first
time and this year we cannot resist to make similar plans. Our daughter
Stephanie (16) will accompany us but it's the parent's part to pay the
bill. The most difficult thing is to find a proper hotel and a flight,
because Easter holidays are near and many flights are booked already.
But
then the travel agency offers one week at Kolimbia, Rhodes and the
bureaucratic
matters are soon performed. At the next book shop I buy a picture-book,
a guide and a road map of Rhodes to accomplish the minimal knowledge of
this island.

The most famous things of Rhodes are two affairs: the Colossus
of
Rhodes which once was one of the seven wonders of the world,
but later
destroyed by an earthquake. The other story is the Latin sentence: "Hic
Rhodes, hic salta!" In our simple mindset we think, that
someone has
shouted this invitation for a dance vis a vis to the loveliness of the
island.

But this is not correct and I give the extraction from a
schoolbook:

In Aesop's fable "The bouncer"(?) (Der Prahler) there
is someone
praising himself, that he once did a big saltation at Rhodes. But the
unbelieving
listeners answer: "Hic, Rhodes, hic salta".

In our words: "Don't tell tales, do it now and here!

At a Thursday at noon the impatiently expected moment has come
and we
ride by car to Hannover Airport to find the last free place of the
tourist
park area. I have a look to the barrier where one can pay with the Visa
Card, which I proudly possess since some weeks.

We absolve the check in, and Heidi must present her ear clips
to prevent
a hijacking. Stefanie's check is even worse with her accu- cassette-
walkman-
earphone- cable- and plugin-entanglement in her pockets. Finally we are
accepted as no dangerous persons and can enter our places, the last
row,
Stefanie gets the seat at the window. As the plane starts assisted by
puffy
winds Stefanie gets somewhat pale around her nose.

The flight crosses the eastern Alps and then we are high above of
Jugoslavia,
where the Balkan War is still proceeding. It is a strange feeling to
fly
towards a three-star-hotel at Rhodes while the folks just below suffer
of hunger, coldness and inhumanity. As we reach Rhodes it is dark
already
and we must set the clock to one hour later. As the plane hits the
runway
the passengers applaud as usual, so does Stefanie.

We find our transferbus and the first message is, that we have
to change
the hotel, because the Hotel Dounavis as booked is
closed yet. We
are now going for Hotel RELAX. It is very late when
we arrive there
and we are happy to get a provisional late dinner. We have not seen
anything
of the landscape yet and soon we vanish in our beds. But Stefanie got
something
like a camp bed, and that is not what we have paid for.

Friday

The sun shines bright this morning and when we wind up the
curtains
we see the sea in two directions: to the left and to the right. It is
told,
that all rooms of this hotel relish a sea-view, this may be possible,
for
the location of the hotel is at a small peninsula.

The breakfast is of the spartan kind, there are some bread
rolls and
the rest of the ingredients is packed in paper bags or packets, which
must
be scratched with peakish fingernails as there are sugar, butter, jam
and
some susage and cheese. The tea is brewed by teabags, the lukewarm
coffee
comes out of a big can. After we have survived we realize, that we have
lost the shopping bag from the duty-free shopping the day before.
Stafanie
misses the choco bars most.

On time at 9 o' clock the Neckermann-Servicemaid appears, her
name is
Anke Stoeter and she comes from the Extertal near Rinteln
(in
the center of Germany). She will not get sunburnt with only one free
day
the week she states. We reclaim the camp-bed for we have booked a
3-bed-apartement.
Some minutes later the problem is cleared and we move to another room,
sea view to the right with high military sender masts. In the dark they
look nice with their red alarm illumination.

Can we start our holidays now? Heidi heads for the pool and
gets her
arrangements with skin- and sun-cream, towels and suncouch. So we all
snooze
for a while, until Stefanie suddenly says: "I cannot sit here until
eternity".
Heidi just spreads her sun cream and says "Do what you want to, I enjoy
my holidays".

So we march off to the Eukalyptus-Alley of 3 km length which looks like
a tunnel. At both sides of the road they are busy to pave over places
and
drive ups, "Rent A Car" is all they want. At the left side there is an
old water conduit where in former times they got the water from the
"Seven
Springs" for the fertile planes near the coastline. Meanwhile the
bassins
have holes and the lizards live in there.

Sometimes you recognize a house from former times. These are
rebuilt
for touristic purposes or in a miserable state otherwise. They
typically
have big arcs for the gate and the sheds for sheep and goats aside.
Sometimes
some hens run around and a lonesome watch dog is happy for some
variety.
People who do not share in touristic activities are merely poor.

At the end of the eukalyptus alley we hit the main road Rhodes
- Lindos.
There are some houses but nothing else to be seen. The rest ruins of an
early christian basilica from the 5/6 th century are enclosed by a
fence.
Back at the hotel we are tired now and I have a nap in the sun. Soon
the others give me a kick, but it is too late already, my face has
turned
to the typical color of careless tourists in southern areas.

Now we watch some workers as they build up a snackbar at the other side
of the pool. This is the Mediterranean way of labour, they move some
stuff
from here to there and then everything back again. The main result:
everything
is painted white at last.

Especially one of the workers is our favourite, we name
him 'Calfactor'
but Stefanie changes this to 'Karl Victor'. But his fellows call him
'Gelonida'.
Heidi says "Did they call him for telephone?" So you see: regeneration
does it's work...

Some other guests are interesting too. Two middle aged ladies
give joy
to the world by their extravagant fashion as they wrap extraordinary
clothes
around themselves. So we call them the "wrapper girls". They seem to be
somewhat shy, because they retire to a remote suntrap for their topless
sunbath. On the other side this remote suntrap is just aside the
beach-path...

Then a little girl comes up and tries to confiscate our
attention. With
yelling shouts she presents her "belly dance swimstyle".
"I've learned
this by myself" she states. Finally a sour looking man appears to
allure
his daughter for an icecream or game of billard.

The pool time is over when it gets chilly during the early afternoon
- we have March yet. We start for a walk to the northern side of the
peninsula.
At a former fishing hut an old man sits in the sun. We imagine him to
be
the old fisherman. Behind this scene there is a modern restaurant with
a glass-terrace.

The beach is less sand but more stones. But these are
beautiful. Many
look like perfect marbled spheres. The flat stones are nice for these
famous
stone-hopping activities. Stefanie needs some practise, Heidi lordly
stands
above those childish gimmicks.

Passing some swampland with many flowers we reach the
eukalyptus alley
again. There are two shops and we buy some oranges and wine to try out.
From the first day we are stuck to the Platoni, semi sec.,
which
tastes well.

The dinner gets some more expensive by a bottle of wine as
well. There
is no buffet but the usual four course menue by soup or entree, salad,
main dish and dessert.

By and by we get doubts, that we have booked a really low
priced journey,
for we paid for full season but it is still rather deserted everywhere.
Then they have changed the hotel to a lower category. And if there is a
cold day, we get rather cold in our chamber to the north. We are
peaceful
people and do not always look for reclamations but we do not want to
leave
out this fact in this narrative.

Today we have a fine weather - so what to do? The "wrapper
girls" have
hired a "Rent-A-Car" and just are busily engaged to hit the reverse
gear.

Meanwhile a sportsman with a racing bicycle sets up his
environment.
He has a special bag with all his implements. Of course at first I am
jealous
of his bike but as you see the rest, it is a kind of abnormal
materialism.
Special shoes and pedals, an aerodynamically styled helmet, a race
dress
and calibrated gloves etc. (all as usual for a racing cyclist, but I am
none of those...). The sportsman's wife and son assist as much as they
can to fix the bike and all the stuff. Finally the sportsman enters the
bike and speeds up around the next corner while the camcorder whirs
behind
him.

I am nervous now and head for a bike shop nearby. They offer
bikes for
rent and there is nothing to discuss about the daily price (1000
Drms.).
May be I reflect to this matter another day. Moreover we add our
equipment
by baseball caps to shield the burning face from the sun.

So we sit at the pool for a while. Soon I get impatient again
and say
good by to inspect a certain mountain nearby. This is the Tsambika
Mountain,
326 m height. "The peak is topped by a monastery and a chapel
of the
miraculous Virgin Mother" is to be read in the Polyglott
Travel Guide.
This mountain can be entered b a road at the backside, but now I want
to
find out, if this can be done by a more direct route (Direttissima).

So I march along the coastline until jagged cliffs and rocks
block the
beach. It is better not to climb up there. I stroll along the slope of
this holy mountain, and what is not to be seen from the distance that
is
now obvious when you are near: a wonderful carpet of flowers like
deep-red
poppy and white anemones or yellow clover flowers (Klee). As I look
around
I hear a cry and discover the first mountain goat. Then the second and
then one after another. I proudly believe to have made a rare
observation.

Some time later the path ends at a gate of an estate. They
have stored
some garden-waste material there and dozens of those "rare" mountain
goats
feel well there. I feel like a great mountaineer as I decide to retire
from this "danger" and turn to a tarmac road. On the way back one can
guess,
why there are so many building sites, where they have begun to build a
house but then appearantly have stopped all activities. At the
buildings
which are completed at the floor, the iron beems for the upper stores
loom
into the air.

As I am back at the pool I must report my mountaineering
adventures
and gather much laughter of it. My family in turn tells, how "Karl
Victor"
is busy to cut the sod. He manages to complete one or two tracks before
he has to stop for another activity. Later he starts the lawnmower for
a new run - so this ranges all over the afternoon.

At our late-afternoon walk we have some calamares at the
fishing restaurant.
We then visit our intrinsic "Hotel Dounavis" and learn from the
business
manager, that we can change now if we want. But we think it is too late
now, The Relax is nearer to the sea and the way to the two shops - downtown,
as we say - is short.

Today we want to go to Lindos because the
entrance to this historic
place is free on Sunday. Lindos was the origin when they settled out to
the island in former times. The village still is in it's original
oriental
state. Above on a mountain there are the ruins of the Johanniter
castle,
and within the walls of the castle you find remainings of a Greek
sanctuary
named "The Akropolis of Lindos". You find a photograph of this scene on
every relevant travel guide of Rhodes. Lindos is said to be the most
picturesque
place of the island.

We wait for the bus and are not sure if this will arrive, for
it is
Sunday, we are in Greece and they just have changed from winter- to
summertime.
An older couple comes up and so 5 persons successfully await the bus.
At
the junction at the end of the alley we change to the bus to Lindos. We
have a short glance of our racing cyclist, as he hurries along the main
road towards Rhodes-City.

The bus is stuffed and we must stand. For the first time we
have some
impressions of the landscape. Naked hills, grey rocks, the blue sea is
sometimes sometimes to be seen at the left. And goats everywhere.

We pass the town Archangelos which looks
very original too. Today
on sunday morning everywhere you see those grey suited old men with
caps
and weather beaten faces as they sit behind their Ouzo and decide
about
the worldwide problems and politics.

We stand just behind the bus driver. Once we observe him to
ride with
closed eyes. Anyhow it seems to look like this. So we relax as behind a
summit the scene of Lindos comes up as already known from the travel
guides
and catalogues. Now the crowds of the bus must spread out and we wait a
little while, as we see the older couple crawling up the stairs to the
castle already. We stroll along the "original" scene with it's
souvernir,
clothing and jewelry shops. May be you can hardly walk here during the
main season.

Gradually we approach the ascent of the castle. It is known,
that Heidi
suffers of acrophobia and the fenceless stairs up above the city, its
slopes
and the bay beneath really look airy. But we manage to frame her off
the
depth and reach the top. We nearly miss to admire the sculpture of a
ship,
which is said to have been created by the same sculptor as that of the
famous Laokoon Group.

On the top there is the antique department withe the rests of
the temple
and some columns. There are frameworks around the columns and they
paste
cheating newer stone material into the crevices. The view is
impressive,
at the sea there is the Paulus Harbour formed like
a circle. The
apostle Paulus is said to have been landed there.

We success to come down alife again and stroll along the
wrinkled lanes.
At the floors there are fine mosaics made of stones as we use to
collect
for this water-hopping game. For a better consistence they have
implanted
the stones in their vertical form. At a tiny backyard a black suited
woman
fumbles around. This would be a nice motive as one awaits from the
Greek
atmosphere but I do not want to be impertinent.

We finally enter the "Mary's Church" with frescos an an "Ikonostase"
made of silver. And you can lit a candle for some coins. We are
saturated
of cultural impressions now and head for the bus station to enter the
next
bus. We leave the bus at Archangelos to have a look around there.

Now at the early afternoon there are not so many old men at
the scene.
May be they have succeeden do decide about the fate of the world or the
Ouzo did its work. Some steps from the main road we find a labyrinth of
small lanes within bright white painted houses. This looks much more
original
than Lindos for it is not as affected by touristic criteria. A black
woman
salutates kindly. Some steps ahead a poor old woman sits at the ground
and eats a rice meal with bare hands. We resign to shoot a foto again.

Above Archangelos there are ruins as well, only the base of
the walls
to be seen. The chapel is closed, we are tired and in the restaurants
all
places are occupied. So we afford a taxi back to the hotel and this is
not expensive.

We head to the fisher tavern to have a snack. Stefanie orders
calamares
and looks strange, as she gets intact little pink octopusses with
tentacles
and suckers. So it's up to me to consume these creatures - the taste is
nice. Thereafter we have a rest in our cold chamber and read in the
travel
guide what we have seen today.

Later on we are fit again to go "downtown" for shopping. Today
we have
a companion and that is a trusty dog that runs along with us at the
orthogonal
structured tarmac roads. We end at the top of our peninsula with a
natural
vegetation. Heidi detects a single orchid. The dog escorts us back to
the
hotel and stays before the door until the dinner is over. But Stefanie
removes after the soup, the octopusses are still in her imagination. At
the table next to us there sits a family with two sons about 10 years
old.
They sit bold upright and eat what's served. The parents seem to be
teachers,
so we see our educational lacks and Stefanie may be glad about this.

The weather is not so fine again and so we decide to continue
with the
cultivating program. And this will be a visit f Rhodes City with its
picturesque
Old Town. The bus struggles along the walls of the fortress through the
traffic jam.

At the harbour we leave the bus and jump aside from the
omnipresent
motor vehicles. It is windy here and we try to get into the old town
but
do hard to find the right gate for a while. We are disappointed about
the
remaining roaring traffic in here, can't they keep the traffic off the
historic part of this town? As we stumble along we hear a voice from
aside
"Hey, you come from Germany, that's nice!" - as if we are the only
tourists
with baseball caps, cameras and camcorders. But she lures for customers
for suitcases, wristwatches and jewelry.

I try to push my family ahead, but Heidi (as a collegue) and
the lady
are involved in a conversation already and a coffee is offered. I am
enthusiastic
and keep my fist hard around the purse. The blond lady has come from
Sweden
20 years ago, her chief as owner of the shop comes from Austria.

We sip our coffee and learn this and that. So the traffic will
be kept
off the city from the 1 st April when the main season begins. Just now
there arrive 30 tourist planes at Rhodes Airport per day. And the wrist
watches over there in that box are styled in a special technical outfit
and have come individually and directly from London. And the gold stuff
is so cheap...

I have my foot stuck into the entrance door already and we get
a business
card and a somewhat sour good bye. We then stroll around without a
certain
intention. This is not necessary, for anyway you soon get lost in this
labyrinth. We pass the "Knight's Lane" which shall be unchanged since
the
middle ages. Today two mountainbikers rotate uphill in their lowest
gear.

The Palace of the Grandmasters is closed
on Mondays. So it remains
to us to imagine all the culural period during the past thousands of
years.
Byzantine, Babylonian, Greek, Roman, Cruisaders and so on, all the
rests
of these periods are piled like a sandwich in the ground. If one digs a
hole in this city the archaeologists stand by foot. And we walk like on
eggs.

The shops are mainly of the same kind as at Lindos, souvernirs
- souvernirs.
Then there are craftmen's workshops, dressmakers, fur dealers,
carpenters,
gold-smiths and so on. The workshops are open to the road and one can
look
insight. The same obtains to some living rooms of the poor, but we are
better discreet.

In spite of the gusty winds we sit down at a restaurant st one
of the
numerous places. From now and then one must jump behind a tool that was
blown from the table. One of the advertising signpost above the door
drops
down on the head of one of the service maids.

Something tired we stroll towards the bus station, and there
just waits
a bus to Kolimbia - we sit in there at once.

Near the evening we are able for a walk again and have a look
at the
flowers which I saw some days ago. At the beach there is a heavy sea
and
a dead goat is washed ashore - this is not so appetizing. In the
evening
we discuss the bad weather with the other guests and the "wrapper
girls"
ensure, that at the other side of the island they have had sun today.
So
simultaneously they have expressed their mobility with their "Rent A
Car".
Let's wait for tomorrow...

The weather looks better and Heidi rearranges the bath towels
again.
At breakfast we watch a corpulent lady, as she discretely smeers some
bread
rolls to hide them in her suitcase. As she leaves she pushes against
the
edge of the table and all the hidden breads roll on the floor. The
sneering
waiter stands aside and it is obsolete to describe the reaction of
Heidi
and Stefanie.

For the sun stays to shine the rest of my family knows what to
do and
so am I. I get a 18-gear-mountain-bike from the bikeshop and soon sit
on
the saddle with the option to ride in any direction of an unknown
landscape
as far as I want - this is freedom. While I think about all this the
racing
cyclist overtakes me, ducked on his handle bar, turns to the main
road and speeds up amongst the pollution vapours.

I go straight on towards the Seven Springs (Epta Piges), and
if you
see a parking place and busses you know, you are there. Then there is
steep
path, and as long the surprised tourist groups look at you with your
bike
you must stay to ride up there. When out of vision you can jump off the
saddle and have a breather finally.

Then you hit a tavern and the faountains. I cannot check the
number,
for the waters come out of various crevices. A small bridge is covered
with sticks and the daredevils are invited to crawl through a tunnel to
an underground lake. A lot of peacocks around astonish by their
thrilling
cries.

On the way back I must get off my bike and push behind a group
of walkers.
Then we further run up the Lutani-Valley, rocky slopes and pine woods
at
each side. Once there is a deep gorge where the waters have broken
their
way. You won't find anything about this in any tourist guide. As well I
cannot find the name of the following chapel. A honey-seller waits
under
a sycamore tree for consumers.

The next palces in the wider valley are Arhipoli and
Eleousa
which are harmonically embedded in the green landscape. Than the summit
is reached and the sea on the other side of the island is to be seen.
And
we see the mountains of the Turkish coast. At Elousa the road forks to
one of the highest Rhodan hills Profitis Ilias (ca.
800 m). A short
rest before in front of a rotten monastery and I success to sit down on
a stone staircase just in the mid of a water puddle of the last rain.
So
I am fresh at the back side from now on...

After a longer ascent we reach the chapel Ajos
Nikolaos Fountoukli,
which is from the early Byzantine era (from the travel guide again).
Inside
you find bottles for holy water and I wonder, that no one misuses them
as souvernir. But The corpulent daughter of a "Rent A Car"-driver
diagonally
jams herself into the entrance and her father shoots a photo.

So it continues to go up and up. I see a British couple
robbing on their
knees through the underbrush with unfolded stative and camera looking
for
botanic sensations. And you will find them, orchids, midget-iris,
mountain
anemone and others. At the road there are many workers repairing
the
pavement and ditches and while I should salutate by "Kalimera" I prefer
the international "Salut" or "MoinMoin". And the Greek workers answer:
"Guten Morgen"...

After some time we reach the top with the mountain hotel Elafos
(Deer), built in Swiss chalet style. No duty for a sight and I stay on
the bike, there is no view as well for the surrounding trees are too
high.
But somewhere down the road there it is: the Ataviros,
1215 m height,
the highest mountain of Rhodes. The top is hidden by fog and dark
clouds
brew around, but the coast lies in bright sunshine. It is easy to
understand,
that in primeval times the folks believed in daemons, ghosts an gods
who
ruled in the mountains.

I head for the light and want to reach the opposite coast of
the island
(like the "wrapper girls" yesterday). This is easy with downhill road
and
tail wind, but when I reach Salakos,Kalaverda and Soroni
there is nothing to be seen. I then turn back up the valley of the
Plati.
Once i detect a copious orchidfor a photo. Then there is a large
parking
site again caused by the chapel Agios Soulas. Such
a small chapel
and such large parking areas...

Then I meet Dimilia again and finally rush down the Loutani
valley using
the highest gear. I bring back the bike and in the hotel I find my
family
shivering in the beds. After the sun has gone it suddenly turned to be
chilly. I add my the distance of the etappes and find out about 68 km.

The chilly feeling will last to the evening, when the vine
Platoni weks
the animal spirits again.

What is to be done yet? Of course the attempt to overcome the
Tsambika
mountain "behind the house". I take three hours for free and run
against
the walls. I find myself between hens, a sheep gate and rosty tons
thrown
into the landscape, but there is no path leading up the slope. So I
pass
olive groves and meadows full of flowers to hit the main street and the
junction, where the paved road up the mountain begins. When I walk
up there, the landscape around gradually sinks to the depth. It's about
20 minutes up to the restaurant, where the sporty Rent A Car-drivers
must
switch off the motor. At the garden of the restaurant there sits a
couple
at a Coca Cola and I ask them for the direct path to Kolimbia. "We
would
like to know that ourselves" they answer.

But first let us climb the final top. This is no problem,
because they
have build concrete (Beton) paved steps which could be passed by roller
skates. And know on the top we find the rests of the monastery, some
walls
surround a small court yard with th small chapel as usual. Outside of
the
walls we have a phantastic view in all directions. Lindos to the south,
the clouded Ataviros, Kolimbia under our feet and on the other side the
best beach of Rhodes, Tsambika Beach. Everything
only to be reached
by car, that's it what they want. As i turn to go back a group of young
Greek folks comes up, a Pries included. You must know, that this
monastery
is a pilgrims site to gain fertility.

At the restaurant I ask the host for the direct path to
Kolimbia. The
answer is simple: "Go ahead, you always see Kolimbia". This is nearly
known
by myself. So I go ahead respectively feel my way into the unknown
terrain.
First a signpost: "Hotel Panoramic". And hard to be seen, a narrow path
winding among the bushes. Sometimes they have piled small pyramides of
stones, this makes it easier. Beautiful the world of flowers which you
never would expect if you watch this grey mountain from far away.

So we only need 30 minutes to jump down this way and then I
find myself
back again between the building sites and tarmac roads. We are lazy the
rest of the day, chat to some other guests. As I once peer into the
garden
I see "Karl Victor" standing under a peerwood and manicuring his finger
nails.

The last day! Our plane will get off at 10 pm and we will be
picked
up at 7 pm. But the room must be cleared at noon. So we must improvise.
At the breakfast we have another spectacle as the waiter proves to be a
ballance-artist with a pile of cups along his arm with the upper cups
jammed
into his armpit. Nice smell for the next coffee or tea...

I can convince Stefanie to make the climb to my favourite
mountain with
me, now as I know the "direttissima". There is more dust in the air, so
we will not have the nice view of yesterday. But it is a great fun to
struggle
up the winded path up the slope. We have a Cola at the restaurant and
then
enter the top. Today they paint the walls with white colour, not only
the
walls but some rocks and plants as well. The Greek love the white
colour,
though the women usually are clothed in black.

The descent is routine but then we find the greatest
sensation: a kind
of lady's-slipper orchid, exactly called Ophyris.
After two hours
we are back in the hotel. We change some money and go out for a last
shopping.
Once the racing cyclist comes along, but he jogs today and just
disappears
in a cloud of dust from a cement mixer.

We go to the fishing tavern for a last meal. We have fried
fish and
this is very good. But when we look at the bill we turn to panic: that
is more than we still own in Greek currenacy. We can solve the problem
with a bank note of 10 Deutsche Mark. And the reason of the dilemma is:
fish is expensive and we hadn't thought about that.

As we leave in the evening our trusty dog-friend appears and
Heidi sheds
some tears about this. As we pass the various hotels on the way back at
Faliraki and near Rhodes Town we are glad to have stayed a Kolimbia
with
its flowers, landscape and the mountain "behind the house". So just
another
quotation of some guests as they look out of the bus: "Well see, we
have
just come until this place!" and they point to a certain spot at the
beach.
Did they do anything else?

During the flight we have some holes in the air and have to
fasten the
seat belts, Stefanie gets a pale nose again. As the captain declares,
that
we have reached the Germal underground Stefanie relaxes for she knows,
the hospitals are more familiar there in the case of a fall down... Of
course we arrive intact, otherwise you probably would not have read
this
report.